Diary of A Cowgirl
by bloodsmoothy
Summary: “Can I help you?” asked a low, velvety voice. I sort of jumped and turned around, slightly shocked. It was Link. He was lying on the ground under an orange Hum-V with a box of tools beside his shirtless, oiled body. Did I mention he was covered in oil? ML
1. Mr Susan

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed Silent Night, you really made my days with your love *hearts*.

A **cautionary note** for this story, though: **There is swearing.** So, if you are easily offended by stuff like that, this probably isn't your bag of chips.

I **don't own** Zelda, Versace, Mercedes or Elle. Just the words I wrote here.

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**Diary of a Cowgirl**

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**Saturday August 25, 11:58 AM, Malon's 3****rd**** floor bedroom suite's balcony, writing on her newly acquired laptop in her blog; "Diary of a Cowgirl" **

**Mood: Shit…**

**Song: **_**Get Out of This Town**_**, Carrie Underwood**

_Hey all, I just moved into our new house yesterday. Everyone here is so rich; I'm not used to it. Ever since dad inherited his company, Rousseau Inc., a few years ago, he has wanted to move into a real neighborhood instead of living on 'that dinky old farm'. He doesn't think that owning a business from a farm is a good idea. We are now living in The Hylias - the wealthiest neighborhood on the West Coast. Our house is like a castle with three stories and 12,000 square feet of mahogany floors; our lawn is perfect thanks to the lawn boy and we even have a chef. Talk about luxury… _

_I like the farm better. There are horses and cows and chickens and wide-open spaces. It's nice and sunny and when you go outside there are no gardeners attending to the hedges, no smell of freshly-manicured pine trees, no rich princess ho fanning herself on the balcony of the house across from you looking for all the world like a celebrity. The girl I'm referring to is none other than the world's very own Zelda Harkinian. She's queen in her own mind, and a beautiful, glamorous angel to everyone else. I stare with hate at her Christian Louboutin heels and cherry-red Mercedes-Benz Convertible (oh, just because I was brought up on a farm does not mean I don't know my designers. I live with Stephaney – the biggest brand-name-knower on the west coast – for God's sake. But you'll learn about her later). Zelda's father bought three houses in a row and converted them into one gigantic mansion that towers over all the rest like some strange, suburban resort. Her dad can do that, because, you see, he just happens to be the CEO of Rousseau, Inc. My dad just sits there and owns it and rakes in the cash. His uncle bought most of the shares or something._

_Ever since dad found William Harkinian nine years ago and decided that he'd be the perfect new CEO for his new media empire, they've been BFFs. They golf together, watch sports games together… vacation with strange women together. Oh yeah. I forgot one thing. They expect their daughters to be best friends. So, I've had my share of Zelda Harkinian. I know what she's about, how she operates. When me and Zelda first met, it was my eleventh birthday and her dad made her buy me a birthday present. It was a pair of Dorothy heels - red and sparkly. I figured – hey – maybe we'll be friends like dad and Mr. H. _

_I was _**wrong**_._

_When we were alone, she took my darling ruby slippers and tossed them into a pile of cow poop and told me that if I ever told anyone about it, she'd have her daddy kill my horse. Being the stupid 11 year old girl that I was, I believed her. _

_Zelda and her family came every year on holidays and sometimes we'd vacation together in Aruba or the Caribbean. She'd pretend adore me until our parents' backs were turned: then she'd sling mud. Sometimes literally. Living on a farm, I'd never had very many friends, isolated as I was, but I was home-schooled and was friends with Epona and the other horses and the cows. Apparently, that made me a freak. When I was fifteen, our families were vacationing together in Cuba in a private luxury resort. My dad was with his new wife – Stephaney (who is the biggest douche I've ever met; "Mal, cupcake, how do you not know who Donatella Versace is? God, we need to take you shopping! We'll go to Juicy Couture! Wonderful stores, cupcake. They're so cute! Like a fairyland! Oh, you have the most boring clothes. You'll thank me afterwards." While she sits there, giggling with her nasty fake boobs. Like I care about Juicy Couture. Really?) - and me and Zelda got to share a suite. Yay.  
_

"_Okay, cow-girl," She'd taken to calling me this since she saw me milking cows one afternoon a few years earlier. "There is absolutely no way that we are going to share a room, so… I'm kicking you out."_

"_What?" I'd asked. "You can't kick me out!"_

"_You know what? You're right. I can't. So, you get to sleep in the bathtub. Kay? Kay."_

_And she shoved me in the bathroom then pushed a bookcase in front of the door so I couldn't get out. _

_See how evil she is? See what I had to put up with five summers in a row? See what I'm going to have to put up with for the remainder of my life in the Hylias? THE DEVIL'S BITCH, that's what! I don't need to be treated like dirt by some snotty princess who's never done a days work in her life. As I type this, I'm glaring at her across the road. She's reading _Elle_ and is completely ignoring me even though I know she knows that I moved in yesterday. _

_Oh dear God, she just waved. A ridiculously sarcastic wave, but a wave. Stupid bitch. I politely flip her off and her smug grin turns into a scowl. _

_Well, anyway. I'd better go before I boil over and get so pissed I fly across to her balcony and rip her head off her shoulders. _

_On a happier note, there's a neighbor boy I'm quite looking foreword to meeting here in a few. He's really cute and apparently, he's my age._

_School starts Monday. Yuck.  
_

_Lots of love xoxo_

_-Mal_

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I shut my laptop and headed towards my gold-handled mahogany door. Opening it as roughly as I possibly could, I stomped into the strange hallway. Just because this house was beautiful, didn't mean I had to treat it like glass. There were boxes everywhere from the movers which, strangely, made house look even bigger than it already was. A huge, empty house filled with big, brown boxes. I'll get used to it here, though. Eventually. Maybe.

My suite (not bedroom – _suite_) was magnificent. The floors were carpeted in this really soft, really fluffy white carpet that squished down into the floor whenever I stepped on it. I could sleep there and it would be almost like a bed. My room has a balcony smack dab in the middle of the house, and it looks out to the house (oh, sorry, I meant _resort_) across from ours where the 'Princess' lives. The furniture hasn't been set up in my suite yet (it's a four room suite: bedroom, bathroom, lounge room, HUGE closet), so it's all big and empty. It doesn't feel right somehow, that I live here. That this is going to be my home for the next nine months at least. Until graduation.

Well, that was it, I decided I was going to introduce myself to the neighbors. I had seen a really hot guy jogging with this huge Saint Bernard yesterday as I was putting what I had brought from the farm into my rooms. I asked Stephaney about him and she said she knows his mother who is a local newscaster for the ABC news station. Their son just happens to be my age and will be going to the same school. His name is like Lars or Adam or something.

I traipsed down the grand spiral staircase and walked to the wide-open double mahogany doors. It was a beautiful day out. The birds were singing, the air was mild and the sun high in the sky. The walk to neighbor-boy's house seemed like a mile. His house was like mine: huge. Ours was done so it looked like the White House with Roman pillars and colonial windows, but his was more of a Mediterranean-style mansion with the palms in front and a tiled roof. I went to knock on the large wooden gate, but it was already open, so I invited myself in. I noticed the wood looked ancient. They had probably hired someone to age it so it looked perfectly old. The yard was an immaculately cared-for oasis of palms and ponds, statues and flowers. I decided I liked it better than our complicated array of English garden-esque plants. It looked like someone planned this garden with an intimate detail and care that hadn't been applied to ours. Perhaps Lars or Adam or something had a gardening habit? That was hot.

"Can I help you?" asked a low voice. The voice was nice. It reminded me of chocolate. Milk chocolate.

I sort of jumped and turned around, slightly shocked. I didn't know there was anyone outside.

It was hot-guy. He was lying on the ground under an orange Hum-V with a box of tools beside his shirtless, oiled body. I stared, unable to remember what I was about to say. "I… uh…"

"Oh, sorry." He scooted out from under the SUV and pulled himself up, using a dirty towel to wipe off his oil-blackened hands. "I didn't mean to scare you, are you the girl who just moved in next door?"

It took me a few moments to find my voice while he stared at me with all his tan, half-naked, oil-covered glory. Did I mention he was covered in oil? "Oh, uh yeah. I uh, just came over to say … uh introduce myself." What was with me? I wasn't usually this nervous around guys. Guys were nice, guys were fun. Guys didn't stab you in the back like girls did. Guys were nothing to be afraid of.

"Oh yeah? I'm Link." He smiled a bright, white smile and held out his hand. I took it, holding on a little longer then I probably should have.

"Malon." I said, smiling back. His hands were nice. Very nice.

"Sorry about the grease monkey thing. Hey, why don't you come in? I'll introduce you to the rest of my family; make you feel more welcome."

"Oh, sure, thanks." I followed him into his house. The wooden doors were open like ours – it was such a perfect day out.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to holler at the 'rents."

"Kay." I looked around at the ocean-themed house, trying to familiarize myself with the wealth and class, trying to gain back my confidence. The house was perfectly beachy. There was decorative sand on the bleached wooden bookshelves, seashells and glass bottles with yellowed notes in them. Very simple and clean. I liked it. I wandered into the living room where projector screen TV dominated the entire left wall. To me, it seemed out of place. I decided to sit down in a blue and white striped armchair.

A few minutes later, Link came back in, looking cleaner with a vintage Hollister t-shirt on. He was followed by a little girl with blonde hair and a fat boy who looked about thirteen. The little girl was adorable. Like Link. The boy was pasty white with auburn hair, not so unlike my own fire engine-red locks. A beautiful, brunette woman came strolling down a regal winding stair in a business suit the same color as her cerulean eyes. I recognized the gorgeous woman as Jessica Faust, local newscaster extraordinaire.

"Hello, dear," she purred, winding her cat-like figure over to me. "You must be Stephaney's step-daughter. How nice to finally meet you. This is my daughter, Aryll." Aryll nodded her head at me and then walked back into the hallway. "And Mido." Mido grinned at me and then raced after his sister. "And you've already met Link. I'm sorry for the children's rudeness, but children are children and those particular children will be getting a lesson in manners later today."

I chuckled. She didn't seem like the type Stephaney would hang out with – classy, refined, elegant. There was an air of timelessness about her.

"Oh, it's fine. And it's nice to meet you too." I took the graceful hand the held out to me and looked around the large home again. Saying it was 'nice' to meet her seemed so blasé. So bland. So… lacking in personality. But, she wasn't giving me much to work with, so I focused on the surroundings. "I love your house; it reminds me of Tahiti. We've been there several times."

"Oh? You must tell me stories, I know William and your father travel together. Stephaney knows I'm going to host a welcoming party for you and you and I will chat. Yes, my husband and I took our honeymoon in Bora Bora and we were inspired by the elegant simplicity of the whole island. I decided to model the house to capture that atmosphere."

"Bora Bora, wow. It must have been beautiful. I haven't been there yet."

"It is." She looked at her silver Rolex. "Well, it was a pleasure finally meeting you. I would have come over to your home myself, but I'm so terribly busy. Tell your step mother I said hello and I apologize, but I must be off to work."

"Oh, that's alright, I've really gotta go, too. Help unpack and all."

Mrs. Faust smiled at me and then looked at Link. "I'm sure Link will be willing to drive you home. It's not exactly a short walk."

"Yes, ma'am." Link said, smiling slightly.

"Oh, alright, thanks."

We bid our farewells to Jessica and Link took me through his house to the garage. There were three cars parked in the garage not including the Hummer that was on a jack in the driveway. Link led me towards a forest green Mustang GT.

"Is this your car?" I asked.

"Yeah, I got it for my birthday a few months ago. I like green." He opened the passenger door for me and closed it after I got in. _What a sweetie_. I noticed that the inside was custom-made black leather embossed with what appeared to be a family crest (a capital F with a whole bunch of whirligigs all around it) and there was a tin of York Mints in the cup holder. I briefly wondered if Link tasted like chocolate and mint, then threw the thought from my mind as he opened the driver door. Link got in his side and grinned at me, sticking the keys in the ignition.

"So, what's your favorite color?"

I laughed. "That's classic."

"Just trying to make small-talk." He grinned. It was a charming grin I found my insides responding to in a most alarming manner.

I smirked a little and looked over at Link who was driving down the driveway to the open gate. "It's yellow."

"See? Wasn't so hard. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Ask me a question."

"Oh. Okay. Um. Hm. What does your dad do? I haven't heard much about him."

Link looked a bit uncomfortable as he answered this. Probably wasn't the best question to ask. I mentally hit myself. "He, uh, he's a landscape artist. He designed this neighborhood. And our yard."

"Oh, awesome." I looked out the window, trying to hide my surprise. So Link wasn't into gardening after all. Oh well. The grease monkey bit was hot, though and I found myself not disappointed in the least. Suddenly, we were at my house which I didn't recognize at first. It was a slight transition from dinky farm to **SHABAM!** – you live in the White House! "Hey, thanks for the lift."

"Anytime."

I opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"Wait," Link called. "You're going to Orange Valley High, right?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I'll see you there." For some reason he didn't look too pleased. I shrugged it off, dismissing it as my own overactive imagination. Shutting the door, I made my way up the steps to the gigantic mansion that was my new residence.

I went into my house and found that Stephaney had already started unpacking things with the help of our maid - the latter, doing the manual labor, the former filing her acrylic nails.

"Malon-y cupcake, where have you been?" Stephaney's gooey voice cooed at me and I cringed. Steph was sweet, but a bit of an airhead and had no idea how to treat a seventeen year old girl. Which was weird because she acted like one, but whatever.

"I was introducing myself to Jessica Faust."

"Oh, I love Jessica, how is she?"

"She's great. She says hi." It surprised me that classy Jessica was friends with a party girl like Steph. Miss Priss must have a hidden wild side.

I jogged two steps at a time up the mahogany staircase and tried to find the way to my room again. _Let's see… take a left at the top of the stairs and its three doors down._ When I got there, I stepped out onto my balcony to enjoy the east facing view. Luckily, Zelda had disappeared back into her lair. I looked down at the street and saw that Link's car had moved from our side of the road to Zelda's and he was standing at their front door. For some reason. A pretty, tan, blonde girl came out, who I had never seen before, looking a little frantic and they both went inside.

_I wonder what's up over there._

About a minute later, a petite woman in a black trench that went down to her ankles, blacked out sunglasses, a scarf and a huge hat came out with Link and the blonde girl and they got in his car and left. Weird. Maybe that was normal here. Maybe the woman was a celebrity. How exciting! I was jealous of the tan blonde, whoever she was. She and Link looked good walking together.

I dismissed these thoughts as movers came to put my things in my room, an interior decorator organized our house and moving vans came and went throughout the rest of the evening. I hoped I would like it here.

#

In the dream, I was a mermaid. A beautiful, scaly, purple mermaid. My hair was made of seaweed and my name was Greg. I was a happy mermaid. I floated about the sea, picking up cars from their sunken demises at the bottom of the ocean. I noticed that my hands were made of silicone and they were covered in motor oil. Link was there. He was reading a magazine upside down and he was wearing shiny green boots and a silk dress. I heard a gentle, repetitive snick-snick-snick as he walked through the water in his boots. The snicking sound kept happening, even after he stopped walking. That's when I woke up. The snicking stopped, and then started up again and I looked about wildly.

There was a paparazzo at my window.

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Thanks so much for reading this chapter, if you've made it this far without dying of boredom, please feel free to review, constructive criticism is much appreciated.


	2. The Hitcher

Words can't express how much **I fail**. I haven't updated in liek a year. I would beg forgiveness of my **beautiful** readers and reviewers, and ask that you not judge me too harshly. Amor, amor, amor *hearts*.

I **don't own** People, or Montrio Bistro or Mazda. But I do love to use them.

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**Monday September 3, 4:45 PM, Malon's 3****rd**** floor bedroom, writing in her blog "Diary of a Cowgirl" **

**Mood: Happy **

**Song: **_**Sunshine and Summertime**_**, Faith Hill**

_Howdy hoes and pimps! First day of school. Let me tell you: It was just boring old school. The usual boredom and trauma. We already have Math homework! Overall, though, I'd say the day went by amazingly well, for all the torture that the students of America are fortunate to endure. _

_List of classes:_

_1__st__ hour: World History with Mr. Gaebora_

_2__nd__ hour: English with Ms. Daltus_

_3__rd__ hour: Study Hall_

_4__th__ hour: Chemistry with Mr. Dodongo_

_5__th__ hour: Creative Writing/ Journalism with Mr. Ezlo_

_6__th__ hour: French with Mdme. Aroma_

_7__th__ hour: Pre-Calc (cue evil music) with Mr. Dragmire_

_So, those are my classes and in between 4__th__ and 5__th__ hour, I have lunch. Fun, huh?_

_Well, Orange Valley High is about two miles away from The Hylias in Monterey and it's right on this nice little hill, so it overlooks the ocean. The view is beautiful, but there are no windows, so it was a relief when the 3:15 bell _finally_ rang. _

_I met a lot of really wicked awesome people, and Link showed me around to my classes. All the girls like him. I can see why, I mean - he's gorgeous. Apparently, he and Zelda sort of have a thing going on, according to school gossip Ashley Mendoza. I don't get it. She's such a bitch. Why do the assholes always grab the hot guys? Zelda hangs out with the rest of the gorgeous school 'royalty', of course (the head of which, she is the queen); Lizzy Kennedy (a Kennedy), Ruto Bazzi (her mother is the chief fashion designer for Gnirih Won, an up and coming brand that Stephaney ADORES), Midnight Blossom (No kidding, that's her real name), Rafton Kolmes (is it bad that I want to do him?) and Jimmy Fandor (PERV PERV PERV)._

_ Speaking of the school royalty, Link's been introducing me to some of his gang - a less airbrushed-Barbie-doll version of Zelda's little clique. The people Link hangs out with are the people everyone gets along with. His ex, Tetra, is a gorgeous American beauty – tall, tan, blonde – with charisma like no other. She's real easy-going most of the time though. Despite their history, Tetra and Link get along very well. Oh and did I mention that Tetra is Zelda's cousin? Yeah, I don't know why I've never heard of her until now. Hmmm… Tetra and Link along with Tott Presley (a distant relative of Elvis, I am so sure), Marin Akido (the cutest girl I've ever met in my entire life), Fado Rah (he's really into great music), Jake Hamilton (really cocky, really funny) and Carlina Faust (Link's cousin, who is going out with Jake) all make up the people I will probably end up hanging out with for the rest of my time at Orange._

_ Anyways. Not much new here besides the fact that a guy asked me out today. Yeah. I've never had a guy my age ask me out before. I'm not ugly or anything, but it's about damn time. But, anyway, his name is Mikau and he's gorgeous. He sings in a local band called Indigo Maze. I'm surprised Zelda and her crew haven't scooped him up. Well, anyways, of course, I said yes and we're going to Montrio Bistro just off of East Franklin and Calle Principal on Saturday. Then, he's going to take me to one of his shows. _

_I really hope they're good, I mean, I've never heard of them, but apparently, they've had a few record companies seem interested in signing them. Who knows? Maybe the band will become famous._

_This is all completely new to me._

_Lots of lovexoxo_

_-Malon_

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**Comments:**

**PiLaTeS_4_lYfE**

_Woah girl, idk who u r but ur lyfe is interesting! Dude man u got asked out by mikau wallar!!!??? Thts so kool! I go 2 the indigo maze shows like all th time! And they rokkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!111 Oh btw I g2 northern springs high so we r basicly rivals._

_Bye dude_

What the hell. I looked at the comment on my latest post and laughed. _Oh, the illiterate people of the world..._

It was now Tuesday morning and I was getting ready for the second week of school. I had pulled on my favorite jeans and a cobalt blue v-neck shirt. My red hair was brushed and hanging loose around my shoulders. No need to do any styling, it was just school. Still, I checked myself out in the full-length mirror in my new, gigantic closet.

"Mm-hmm, I look good." My skin was peachy, hair: brilliant, nails: polished. My confidence was a little overboard, too. I am normally a pretty confident girl, I've even been accused of being cocky. I wonder why.

Anyways. I grabbed my black Mario Brothers messenger bag (Yeah. I roll that way.), along with my books and headed downstairs. I could hear the faint sounds of Stephaney doing her yoga DVD in the 'morning room' (The damn house has so many useless rooms! And why didn't she use the gym room? That's what it's for!).

"'_Breathe in, breathe out. Don't forget to flex those abdominal muscles and relax!_'"

I say, how is one supposed to relax while flexing all these various muscles? I rolled my eyes and meandered into the kitchen where I grabbed a cinnamon pop tart and headed to the front door from which I would make my leave.

My leave was, however, interrupted by the doorbell just as I opened one of the massive wooden front doors of our house, pop tart in mouth.

Link was standing there, looking amazingly sexy. His golden hair was still wet from his morning shower and he was wearing a slightly wrinkled almost-see-through white oxford – sleeves rolled to show his tanned forearms, a leather string bracelet and a silver ring on the thumb of his right hand. A few buttons on his shirt had been undone, exposing his tan, muscular chest, now no longer covered in grease and…

"Is that a tattoo?" I stared at a dark mark on his chest, half hidden under his shirt.

"What? Oh… uh yeah just some stick on thing I got at the renaissance fair." He buttoned the shirt so that the tattoo was no longer visible and changed the subject.

"I thought I'd be a good Samaritan and take to you school. Zelda's riding with Tetra, it seems." We started walking to his car.

I remembered the mysterious woman I had seen getting into the car with Link and - apparently - Tetra the other day, and wondered about her. Was she in highschool? Was she one of William Harkinian's concubines? Was she famous? ... Who cares?

"Oh. Are they pretty good friends? Zelda and Tet?"

He opened my door for me and went around to his side.

"They're alright. They don't get along very well most of the time, but uh, they can get pretty chummy. When the time calls for it."

I looked at his thoughtful face, puzzled. I didn't know why I was puzzled. Maybe it was the wistful way he spoke or the pensiveness of his stare. Maybe I was just confused because now, what I wanted most had suddenly changed: I did not want most to talk to Epona and the other animals. I wanted to figure out what the hell Link was being so damn weird about.

#

School was uneventful until 4th period after lunch. Mikau had wanted to take me to get Subway so we went and discussed intellectual things like art and culture. It was fun, for the most part, me playing the part of the mini intellectual, him actually being a rather hot intellectual from halfway around the world (he moved to Cali from France a couple years ago).

After lunch, he kissed me on the cheek and left for his class. I was left wandering the hallways even after bell rang, lost in thought. I had really no intention of going anywhere, I just wandered, I didn't even know where I was in this massive school. Most likely some part of the abandoned south wing.

I don't know what possessed me to wander into the old auditorium. Curiosity, perhaps. Privacy, maybe, though it was private enough in the south wing – no one came back here from what I knew. Apparently, there was a fire some years ago that killed a whole bunch of students and they decided to just close the wing in honor of them. I hoped I wasn't desecrating their memories by trespassing.

The auditorium was dark. Pitch black. So I cracked the door open and let a stream of afternoon light bring the red velvet seats out of the shadows. They were covered in dust, but I chose a partially obscure seat in the back to sit down in anyways. I decided to skip fifth period and just relax. Ditching on the second week of classes probably wasn't the best decision, but I had a lot on my mind.

Like my new life and how quickly I was adjusting to it, for one. I came here not wanting to change, but already I've started to like it here. I live in a stick-up-their-asses neighborhood, but it's fun to watch the people and how they try to out-rich each other with their cars and their technology and their sports teams; I just got done eating lunch with one of the sexiest guys on campus, and I don't know where it is going to go; I have friends that aren't animals and - finally - Link. He is a strange one. Well, first he's hot. Then, he's got to act mysterious. I mean, what he does isn't even that weird, but there is just _something_ about that boy.... And I know I'm right because Tetra keeps saying he has been acting strange lately too.

I heard something and shifted in the dark.

"… _hear_ the way she said your name?" Voices from the hall. Coming closer. I remained where I was, hidden on a chair. Who was visiting the south wing besides me? It didn't sound like a teacher. The voice was familiar; resonating with regality, authority, confidence. Zelda's voice. She was angry.

"Does it matter?" Came the voice of a man. He was whispering and I couldn't tell if it was familiar or not, but their footsteps stopped right outside of the auditorium. I sank down into the chair. The door opened and light was spilled into the dark room as two figures walked in quickly. I squinted at the sudden, intense brightness and missed who the man was as the doors were quickly shut.

"Of course it matters!" Zelda practically shouted and I winced, feeling sorry for her companion. "She could snap you in half with her teeth if she wanted. You know how she gets when she wants something."

"Zelda," The man spoke her name so softly, I felt I was intruding on something private. "Zelda, don't be like this. I know how you get with her. You are both the same way. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"Get off me." She barked. "I really hope you know what you're doing, because there will be hell to pay if you don't. You know what kind of power she has."

"Nothing your daddy can't buy his way out of."

"You bastard." Zelda breathed and there was a gasp as I heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh in a sharp slap and Zelda opened the door and walked away, leaving it to swing shut. Leaving me alone with the strange man. Not that he knew I was here, because I was sure I hadn't made a sound.

I quietly slunk further down in the seat, practically onto the floor, just to make sure. It obscured my view of the door, I knew, which was unfortunate because I really wanted to know who the guy was. He waited for a while, just breathing. And then he opened the door and left. I waited for a long time in that position, my heart beating fast. I heard the bell ring in the distance and got up, feeling my way to the door.

When I got to the senior wing, I was immediately assailed by bright-eyed, darling Marin, who was wearing a kigurumi Pikachu pajama suit.

"Malon! You're on page sixteen!"

I stared at her, wondering what she meant. Then, she handed me an issue of _People_ opened to an article that read: "New Money Scandal! The newest edition to America's Elite acting less than dignified as she is pictured here, hung over from a night of wicked revelry in the L.A. club scene. Luckily for her, she made it home before daddy (Talon Rousseau, currently presiding over the throne of Rousseau, Inc.) could notice her absence.' There was a picture of me, looking rather haggard in my bed, then one of me flipping the camera off and another of what looked like a pale stick figure in a bright orange wig at a country club, riding a bull with the caption: 'Yee-haw! Maybe Malon Rousseau forgot that the isn't in Kansas anymore'. I'm not even from Kansas! And the wig on that skinny girl doesn't even look like my natural hair color!

"What the hell_ is_ this?" I shouted loud enough so that everyone in a thirty foot radius turned to look at me.

"Nice coverage, cowgirl." It was Zelda. She leered over my shoulder to gaze upon the miserable tabloid. "I'd just like to know how you made it from L.A. and back to Monterey in one night. And I know you don't have a jet, since your dad is always using ours."

"Shut up, Zelda, you know this is fake."

Zelda took a copy of the weekly one of her bitches handed to her and started flipping through its cheap, glossy pages. "You'd better watch yourself. Especially where the media is concerned. No one likes fakers who feed information to tabloids for fame. People don't like to be lied to. It would be pretty tragic if news got out about your dad..."

"My dad? Excuse me?" But I took the threat for what it was: a warning. She didn't want me to tell the media anything about her, I get it.

Before I could say anything really nasty, however, Tetra came to my rescue.

"Zelda!" she yelled as she power-walked our way. "Zelda, stop it, you're not making things better for yourself. Malon, don't argue with her."

"Okay mom." I said sarcastically as Zelda tossed her golden hair and pranced off to last period with her cronies.

"Ugh, sorry." Tetra sighed and we started walking together to pre-calc, bidding adieu to Marin. "I don't know why she messes with you. She's really not like that to anyone else – I've never seen her be such a bitch."

"Really? She's always been like that with me. I'm surprised she does it in public what with her being like America's Sweetheart or whatever the hell. But how did you get her to calm down without her little posse eating you alive?"

"Well, I _am_ her cousin. And I had something she doesn't and she respects me for it."

"Oh? What?"

"Link."

"Link? I thought they were basically together."

We sat in our seats at the back of the buzzing classroom.

"No. For one reason or another, they won't get together."

I pretended not to be interested. But I was dying for more information on the inside. Suddenly I remembered my afternoon.

"Oh!" I said, "So I went out to lunch with Mikau – "

"Lucky biyatch."

"- and when we came back, instead of going to class, I went into the abandoned south wing into the old auditorium –"

"Why?"

"Just to think, I guess, but when I was in there I saw-"

"Alright, class!" Madame Aroma strolled in dramatically, holding her signature controversial long cigarette holder, an unlit cigarette stuck right in there. The school board had quite a few complaints about this habit from students' parents, but they went mostly ignored since the board couldn't get Aroma to drop it anyways. She was wearing a faux-mink stole and a mustard-yellow tweed skirt suit with sheer black and white checked tights and brown shoes. Her satin undershirt was royal purple and she wore a ring on each of her fat fingers. I could smell her signature mix of Chanel No. 5 and White Diamonds the moment she stepped into the room. Disgusting. Another thing asthma-conscious parents worried about, not that she cared. I liked that part of the Aroma, at least. The not-caring attitude.

Whoever named her was spot-on with that whole "Aroma" thing, by the way.

As the Aroma (as I suddenly took to calling her, in my mind) rambled on about the swiftly approaching French Essay we were going to undertake, Tet passed me a hastily written note: _Let's skip seventh and go to my place – I'm done with this hole._

I nodded at her and rolled my eyes towards the ceiling as if praying to any god, deity or spirit up there for release from our compulsory prison. Hah. As if.

#

Coincidentally, guess where Tetra lives? Yeah, right across from my house, in ZELDA'S house. At first I was like, whoa what are we doing _here_? She explained to me that her parents were completely MIA and William had taken her under his graceful, gilded wing after they skipped out on her about a year ago. Apparently, it wasn't a surprise when they did. William Harkinian has some flaky siblings. Tetra calls him Uncle H.

Fortunately for us, Uncle H is never home and even if he was, the likelihood of him even knowing we were here was pretty much one in however many rooms there are in the house (which happens to be one hundred and thirty two. I'm liking them odds). So ditching came an easy task. Unless Stephaney or my dad decide to look out the window. Unlikely.

Being inside my childhood tormentor's lair was not at all as I remembered it. Of course, the furnishings and the atmosphere was the same – gilded and oppressive. But the circumstances were different and I have come to find that circumstance is everything.

Tetra's room was on the second floor, a suite to herself - like mine - but facing the back lawn. It was decorated in all sorts of motley things – old vinyl records on the walls in the living room, which were splatter-painted in black and neon purple, a 50's jukebox in one corner. Her closet was Indian-inspired with golds and pinks, jades and purples, gold and orange silk cloth draped along the ceiling to make it look like a tent. The bed in her room was round and huge, made of down feathers with millions of pillows scattered across its surface. She had maps and antique cutlasses on her walls and globes on her floors and an Isfahan rug – very adventurey and explorery.

"So do more cousins live here or just you?"

"Well, some live here during the summer, but I'm a sort of permanent resident. Parents are dead to me, Old Man Harkinian took me in, you know the story. I mean, it's not like he doesn't have room, you know?"

"Yeah, well it's still nice of him."

Tetra looked funny for a moment. "Eh. I guess. Nice isn't usually a work associated with William Harkinian. Cross, edgy, paranoid… Now those are more him. I can only assume that he took me because he had no other option. I have no other family."

"What happened to make your rents leave you?"

"Who knows? They were sailors, you know? They liked to go places, do things. They went to Ireland, never heard from them again. Maybe they're dead. Most likely they just skipped out. They only ever took me sailing once and I loved it, but nope. And they were never around anyways, I've been living here more than I lived with them."

Her iPhone started to ring, '_Eels, Eels, Eels, give it up now_'. She looked at the screen and quickly picked it up, "Hola?"

I heard a tinny man-voice on the other end, but couldn't make out what was said. I didn't want to intrude anyways, so I thought about Tetra's life. Why hadn't I ever met her until now? I suppose because she was with her real parents, who sound so awful. My own mom died or left when I was too young to remember her. Dad never talks about it and when I ask, he says, "That was along time ago, kiddo. She was a beautiful woman, just like you're gonna be. You look like her, Mal." And it makes me choke up, so I don't ask a lot. Maybe one day, I'll get the story of her out of him. Or maybe I don't want to know.

Maybe she's sailing the world too. That sounds boring and lonely to me. The ocean just seems like a vast, blue, watery desert. There's life underneath, where we can't live and there's water all around, that we can't drink. Drink. Think. Link. Ugh, stop.

"Hey Mal?"

I awoke from my reverie to see Tetra looking a little worried. Had I been that out of it?

"Oh, sorry I was just thinking."

"No, you're fine. But I have to go. I'm sorry, I'm a dick." She started to put things back in her purse and make for the door, me following.

"Oh, it's cool. I mean, I live like right there. So..."

"Yeah, we are definitely hanging out later."

We made our way down the stairs and into the garage, where Tetra's red Miata was parked. It was a brief skip and a hop over to my house that landed me on my front porch. I reached for the brass handle just as the door opened.

"Oh, hello." Said a very fit, very scantily clad, very attractive Middle Eastern woman who took my hand. "I'm Nabooru, call me Nabs. You must be Steph's kid. You are gorgeous, good for you. Mother's genes, eh?"

I grinned, a little stunned and she let go of my hand.

"I'll just be popping in and out of your house whenever Steph needs me, so don't crap yourself if you see me here at three AM."

I laughed now, genuinely, and my gaze shifted towards her sporty getup: black sports bra, black leggings, silver Nikes, silver hoops. Her long, auburn hair was in a ponytail.

"Nice. I like your tattoo, it's interesting." I noted that tattoo on her left breast, over her heart. It resembled Sierpinski's triangle. I had seen something like that earlier today. On Link. "Did you get that at the Renaissance fair?"

"What?" Nabs chuckled, noncomprehending, "No, hon, this is real as it gets. Well, if you ever feel the need to join me and Steph in a kickboxing pow wow, feel free to hop in. Free of charge. Because I like you."

And she jogged off. What an energetic lady.

What an interesting tattoo. It was probably nothing, but I couldn't help but wonder at the coincidence of Link having the same tattoo in the same place. Again, it was probably nothing.

* * *

So... There you are. The chapter I have been working on since... what...? Last year? Ha! Well, I've been utilizing the PostIt note lately (stuck to my computer screen, courageously prompting me to "WRITE!"), so hopefully this tragedy won't happen again. Peace, love and eggs.

**R&R** is good for the soul, so do it.


End file.
